Bad Wolf (Wild Men 4)

Christ, not true, I want to ask if she’s okay, if I could see her again, if we could fuck again. I wanna know if she thinks of me, of my cock inside her, of my mouth on her, of how she came wrapped around me, if she likes me…

I’m so fucked.

And I don’t expect an answer from her, so imagine my shock when she replies what seems like seconds later.

‘He didn’t.’

Good. Fucking awesome. There’s my answer. Now I can sleep at night, right? I should put down my phone and get some rest.

Instead I type, ‘You okay?’

And wait for her reply, breath caught in my throat.

Wait longer.

Wait until I wanna throw my phone against the wall.

‘You joined the gang because of Seb,’ she types.

I stare at the words, my breath coming out in a rush. The hell? What else did he tell her? What is she thinking?

‘Because of a promise to your mom,’ she goes on.

Shit.

I rake my hand through my hair, not sure what to reply. Is there anything to say? She wasn’t asking a question, but it feels as though she was.

‘They’re my family,’ I finally send back. ‘I look out for them.’

It’s the truth.

‘Seb said to stop protecting him.’ She writes. ‘That he doesn’t need you to.’

That motherfucker. ‘I can’t do that.’

I wait, and wait, but she doesn’t write again. The green dot beside her name goes white, which I guess means she’s not online anymore.

Yeah, what else is there to talk about, right? It’s not like we’re friends anymore, or anything else. In any case, she wouldn’t understand. She never had to fight for a family, never had to try so hard to keep them.

Seb and Mom, they’re all I have left.

My excuses feel weak tonight, though, and I lie down on the sofa, stretch my legs and close my eyes, try to remember what it felt like to hope for a better tomorrow, what happiness felt like.

I bet I’d felt it once, with my parents. Even with Connor. Affection. Peace. The sense I belonged, that someone wanted me there.

That I fucking mattered.

Sleep is creeping up on me, turning my limbs to lead, sinking me into the mud, then floating me down a dark tunnel. Dread fills me.

Tunnels never bring anything good.

“How’s my baby doing?” a woman says. She’s looking at me. My mom. A flash of a smile. Eyes twinkling.

“Hanging on okay back there, buddy?” a man asks, turning to look at me.

Dad.

The car jerks.